Monologue

Gaffer Monologue from The Post Office

From The Post Office by Rabindranath Tagore

male · contemplative · 1:17 min

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Of course. It's on the sea. (AMAL: And green hills are there?) Indeed, they live among the green hills; and in the time of the sunset when there is a red glow on the hillside, all the birds with their green wings flock back to their nests. (AMAL: And there are waterfalls!) Dear me, of course; you don't have a hill without its waterfalls. Oh, it's like molten diamonds; and, my dear, what dances they have! Don't they make the pebbles sing as they rush over them to the sea. No devil of a doctor can stop them for a moment. The birds looked upon me as nothing but a man, quite a trifling creature without wings--and they would have nothing to do with me. Were it not so I would build a small cabin for myself among their crowd of nests and pass my days counting the sea waves.

About this piece

40s · longing · freedom · isolation · nature · identity

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